On Monday - first day back to work & school - the light was brilliant, the temperatures unusually icy for London, and I had just lost my new black fur ear muffs. My Christmas present. I'd bought it, but wrapped as if it were from Mr. Dot. It's a little tradition we've done every year, I open it on Christmas day with delight ('Just what I always wanted!') I was so excited when I'd finally found it, at Peter Jones. It was the last black pair in the whole store. And in all of London. I'd looked.
I knew I'd found the perfect accessory, and would wear it with everything, & look like Alice in Wonderland.
And I'd gone and lost it. On the very first day I wore it. Without even getting a shot of it, to show you.
And I was also so cold, I couldn't see. As I moved quickly down the King's Road, someone caught my eye. Smoking Boy. Two quick shots - click, click - and I kept on moving on down the road.
There are some moments that you just know are good shots. In my humble opinion. The camera and you are one, like riding the perfect horse, and it practically takes the shot itself. It's like the universe took pity on me for taking away my perfect black ear muffs, and, in return, gave me a photo op.
Maybe I should just get myself a knitted cap. Just like his.
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